


The Umbrella Academy One-Shots pt 2

by ThatDudeNoah



Series: The Umbrella Academy One-Shots [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Autism, Autistic Vanya, Coming Out, Dad!Diego, Disabled Character, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Grooming, Gun Violence, Incest, Kinda, M/M, Near Death Experience, Nightmares, Non-Binary Klaus Hargreeves, Non-binary character, Panic Attacks, Pedophilia, Physically disabled character, Pregnancy, Rape, Self Harm, Sexual Abuse, Sibling Bonding, Trans Diego Hargreeves, Trans Male Character, non-binary, non-con, one shots, the umbrella academy season 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:48:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 14
Words: 16,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25839082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatDudeNoah/pseuds/ThatDudeNoah
Summary: A series of The Umbrella Academy one-shots!|| Feel free to request in the comments! ||
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves/Lila Pitts, Klaus Hargreeves/Dave Katz, Sissy Cooper/Vanya Hargreeves
Series: The Umbrella Academy One-Shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1874953
Comments: 130
Kudos: 234





	1. NOTE

This is my second series of The Umbrella Academy one-shots! If you would like to request an idea, please just comment it. I may not get to every idea. If you harass me about getting your prompt written, then I will not write it. 

This is simply a place for me to post one shots when I have time and feel like it. I'm happy to take requests but there is no guarantee I will write it. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy!


	2. Trust

Diego isn't thinking clearly. It's been months since someone touched him like this, like they  _ wanted _ him. There wasn't much physical contact allowed in the sanatorium among the patients, and certainly none like this. He's  _ aching _ for it, needs the contact more than he's ever needed anything in his life. 

And this is Lila. He knows Lila. He trusts her. As much as he trusts anybody in this time, really. She was there for Diego in the sanatorium - and yeah, she was a pain in the ass, but it wasn't in a  _ bad _ way. She didn't want to hurt him. Or at least, she didn't want to  _ kill _ him. And based on the last few days and the way that she stitched up his wound and cared for him as he healed, it's pretty much the opposite.

So Diego gives himself over. He lets himself clear his head of all thoughts except for  _ Lila’s lips are soft _ and  _ We are wearing too many clothes. _

Diego doesn't have to worry about the second thought for long, though. Lila starts to undress and Diego quickly helps, throwing her clothes as they remove them.

But when Lila tries to take off the pants that are only half on Diego, he freezes.

Lila notices the change in his mood almost immediately and freezes, too. “What?” she asks. “What is it? Do you not want to do this?”

Diego quickly shakes his head and puts his hands on her shoulders to reassure her. “No, no, this is - this is  _ great _ , I promise, I'm loving every second of it, but I, uh, I-I need to tell you something if you want to keep going.”

She nods slowly. “Do you have, like, an STD or something?”

That pulls a small chuckle from Diego. “No, not that. Everything is fine. But, uh. Shit.” Diego takes a deep breath and looks down. “This never gets any fucking easier, does it?” he mutters to himself. Normally, he tells his partner before they even get to the bedroom, but he didn't exactly have time to prepare here. It makes it even harder to say it now that they’re in the middle the moment and he can't help but feel like he’s screwing everything up by stopping them-

Diego closes his eyes so he doesn't have to look at Lila. He always hates this part. He never knows how his partner is going to react. Sometimes they're disgusted and repulsed, other times they look at him as if he's not human and they're disgusted with themselves for ever considering having sex with him. Diego knows that not everyone is like that - he knows that  _ Lila _ isn't like that - but he can't help but be worried.

Not to mention the fact that they're in the  _ sixties _ . People like Diego are accepted in this time even less than in 2019. They're shunned away, treated as monsters. People yell slurs at men who are slightly feminine and no one bats an eye. Diego knows he never belonged in the 1960s for countless reasons, but this is definitely one of them.

Clearly sensing his nerves, Lila carefully tilts Diego’s jaw up and kisses him. It's softer than before, full of more care than hunger. Diego promises himself he won't read into it too much, but he can't help it. For what may be the first time, Lila’s hands are gentle as they move across his skin, touching to comfort him and not to hurt him. It feels  _ good _ having that again. 

When they pull away, Diego lets his eyes stay closed for a few more seconds, letting himself float in the bliss of being cared for. He knows that when he opens his eyes he has to face the reality in front of him, but he lets himself ignore it for a few more moments.

“Whatever it is, Diego,” Lila says in a soft voice, her finger still on the bottom of his chin, “I promise it's okay. I won't judge you.”

He nods softly. “Y-Yeah. ‘Course.” He takes a deep breath. All Diego can focus on is her skin against his and the warmth between their two bodies. All he wants to do is kiss her again.

He takes a deep breath. This is Lila. He knows Lila. He trusts her. “I’m trans.” He doesn't look at her. He can't. “Transgender. I was - I was born female. So I, um, I don't have...”

Diego’s trembling slightly. He’s ready to be slapped in the face, spit on, told he's disgusting, told he has a disease - but none of that happens. Lila doesn't move. She doesn't push him away. She doesn't yell at him. She doesn't poke her finger in his wound. She doesn't do anything to hurt him or insult him.

He opens his eyes to find Lila staring at him. Diego can't quite read her expression, but she doesn't seem horrified. He wonders if maybe Lila doesn't even know what he's talking about. Trans people aren't exactly talked about in the '60s, so it would be completely possible that Lila doesn't even understand what Diego’s saying.

“I’m on hormones and I’ve had surgery for my chest, but that's it,” he tells her. The corners of Lila’s mouth turn up and Diego takes that as a good sign. “I won't be mad at you if you decide you want to leave right now, but I-I'd love to keep going, if that's - if that's okay with you.” 

Lila can't help it when she breaks into a smile. “You're such a gentleman,” she teases. Diego smiles, too. He's about to respond to her but then Lila’s kissing him again, and who is Diego to deny her a kiss? 

Just like before, Lila puts her hands on the waistband of Diego’s pants. But this time, he doesn't freeze. He lets her keep going. Because this is Lila. Lila is sweet and understanding and a little fucking crazy but Diego’s dealt with plenty of crazy people in his life.

It doesn't take long before Diego and Lila are practically devouring each other again. It was like there hadn't been any pause at all, which Diego was grateful for. Having her against him was a feeling Diego quickly realized he loved. She was so unique, was full of love and vulnerability, but could also kill him in a second if he made the wrong move. She was willing to listen to Diego, even when it felt like his words meant nothing to anyone, but she would also call him out when what he was saying was complete bullshit. Lila was unlike anyone Diego had ever met. And she made him feel good.

*

Diego fell asleep with Lila next to him, both of them tired and content. Diego felt safe with Lila in his arms, a kind of comfort he had been without for too long. And as Diego found he often did when Lila was around, he smiled. He smiled because he was happy. Even if the world was ending again and everything was complete shit, at least he had someone in his arms. Someone who he cared about and someone who cared about him.

But the smile wasn't there when he woke up. Lila wasn't there, either.


	3. Cutting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mauvrix  
> Hi! i found this recently and i’ve read through all of them already, i really love the way you handle the characters and balance canon and your own thoughts (and others!) i think you’ve said that requests are closed but if that changes or anything in the future i was wondering if you’d be willing to write one about diego and vanya? obviously no pressure because this is supposed to be something you love but if you decide to, i’d be really interested to see maybe vanya finding diego cutting and connecting/reassuring over that or the other way around. idk i just really love your writing but i totally understand being busy or not interested:) hope you have a wonderful day/night!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!  
> TW: Self-harm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are feeling depressed, suicidal, or are hurting yourselves, please try to reach out to people that you love. That can be a friend, a parent, a school counselor, a therapist, or someone else you trust. But just remember that you're not alone. There are people who will help you through this time.
> 
> RESOURCES FOR PEOPLE WHO LIVE IN THE US:  
> Suicide prevention lifeline: +1 (800) 273 8255  
> Crisis text line: Text “HOME” to 741741  
> TrevorProject (LGBTQ+ helpline): Text “START” to 678678
> 
> Please reach out if you need help.

At this point, it had almost become routine.

Razor blades sat in the drawer of Diego’s nightstand. Waiting.

Diego didn't do this every night. If he did, then it would mean less. He would become numb to it, much like he became numb to other things. He couldn't let that happen. That was the whole reason he did this - to not be numb. To feel something, even if it was pain.

His hand doesn't tremble anymore when it grips the blade. He's much more secure in how he holds it, knowing what to expect. He stares at the slim blade held between his fingers, against the pale and scarred background of his forearm. 

Diego can feel his heartbeat in his entire body. His vision is focused now. He can't think of anything else aside from the blade and his arm.

He doesn't even think twice before he swipes the blade across his arms.

There's an immediate burning sensation, but Diego barely even notices it because of the adrenaline running through him. He feels awake. He feels  _ alive _ . A feeling he missed sometimes.

The pain hits him soon after that. He’s still looking at his arm, but now there's blood coming through the cut. Gritting his teeth, he makes another cut below it. He winces when the razor blade cuts across his skin this time, and he doesn't get much adrenaline from it.

Just another thing in life Diego is slowly becoming numb to.

But Diego still holds out hope that he can get the same feeling. If he just makes  _ one _ more cut -

Diego whips his head around when he hears knocking on the door. “H-Hey, Diego?” Vanya called out quietly. Diego sees the door handle turn slightly, and he panics when he realizes he forgot to lock his door.

“Diego?” Vanya repeats.

Diego looks at the blood now dripping down his arm and back to the door. “U-Uh, y-y-yeah?” he says shakily. He’s panicking so much that he doesn't even realize he’s stuttering so much. He had more or less been able to control his stutter at this point, only stuttering on consonants that were particularly difficult for him, but he was too worried at the moment to do that.

The handle keeps shaking, but Vanya doesn't open the door. “I was wondering if I could come in? Everyone else is hanging out together and I don't wanna be all alone, and I figure you probably don’t wanna be alone either, so uh. I came here.”

He freezes. He can't tell Vanya to go away - she’d get suspicious, and she would be abandoned by her siblings. Diego couldn't do that to her. 

But it wasn't like he could just  _ let her in _ . Then she’d see the scars and the blood and she’d try to talk to him about it and Diego’s really not until he mood to talk about it and -

He doesn't get the chance to choose, though, because Vanya slowly opens the door and peers inside. “Are you alright?” she asks. “You didn't give me an answer about coming in, and you were stuttering again.”

Diego’s eyes are wide as they look at his sister. His breath leaves his body in panic and thoughts keep swarming in his head about how dumb he is. But in these thoughts, there's one that stands out -  _ at least you're feeling something. _

Vanya looks confused for about two seconds before realization flashes across her eyes. “Oh,” she says. Without asking permission, she quickly gets inside the room and closes the door behind her, locking it. Diego doesn't say anything. “Put down the blade,” she says carefully, “and then we’ll just go in your bathroom and clean that up.”

Without thinking, Diego complies. He’s shaking slightly, but he doesn't really know why. Is it the adrenaline? Is it the panic of having someone see him hurt himself? Is it the fear that Vanya will leave and tell Reginald everything? He doesn't know.

When Diego walks into the bathroom, Vanya’s holding a washcloth under the faucet. She carefully takes Diego’s arm and wipes it down, her touch gentle and sure. She doesn't want to hurt him any more than he's already hurt. When the excess blood is more or less wiped away and Diego’s arm is clean, she grabs some Band-Aids and covers up the cuts. She takes care of the injury the same way she takes care of any injuries they get on missions. Diego just watches his arm as she does it, unable to move or say anything.

When the cuts are covered up and taken care of, Vanya frowns and looks at Diego. “Are you okay?” she asks him.

Diego laughs. He can't help it. The question seems so dumb right now, considering the state Vanya found him in.

She nods. “Right. That makes sense. You wouldn't do this if you were ‘alright.’” She pauses and looks back down at his arm. “How long have you been doing it?” she asks.

He shrugs. “Ab-b-bout a month?” he says. He's trying to take deep breaths to calm himself down and stop stuttering. It doesn't seem like Vanya is going to tell anyone about him hurting himself - in fact, she seems very understanding about it. “After, uh, y-y'know…” he trails off. He still has a difficult time admitting to himself that Ben was dead. Ben was - he was gone. And after Ben left, nothing had been the same. Reginald was worse, his siblings weren't as happy, Klaus was cooped up in his room, and Diego had become numb.

Vanya nods solemnly. “Yeah. I actually, uh. I did it,” she admits. “Only, like, two times q. On my thigh. I just - it didn't help. It didn't bring him back.”

With a sigh, he nods. It doesn't bring him back. Nothing will.

Vanya puts her hand on Diego’s shoulder and leads him back to the bed. They sit beside each other, both looking at the ground instead of one another. “I know I can't stop you from hurting yourself,” Vanya says, “but I just want you to know that I don’t want you to. It won't help anything. But, if you do decide to keep cutting, just know I'm here, okay?”

“Yeah,” Diego mutters. “It’s j-just hard.”

“I know. But you don't have to do it alone if you don’t want to. I don’t have to tell any of the others, but they’ll also be there for you. And if you want to talk about cutting with someone, I'm here.”

Diego shakes his head. “I don’t think I w-wanna t-talk,” he admits. “M-M-Maybe just… be here?”

“Of course,” Vanya says. “We don't have to y'all about it. We can just do whatever makes you comfortable and happy. And, if it's easier, we can make a plan or something. Maybe I can come check on you every night - or every other night, or whatever - just to make sure you're okay. And we can also put ointment and stuff on your cuts, to make sure they don't get infected and to make the scarring less intense.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that sounds g-good,” he tells her.

Vanya smiles. “Good.”

“Th-Thank you.” Diego rests his head on Vanya’s shoulder. He suddenly feels very drained and tired. But he also feels happy. And he's missed that feeling.


	4. Recognize

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ScourgeFanatic101  
> Request: In the Vietnam war, Klaus was injured (Lost a leg or something really noticeable), it’s mostly healed over by the time he returns to the present so he’s at least somewhat gotten used to it, but he still has the disability. Maybe you could have someone at the veteran’s bar recognise him because of it?
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!  
> TW: depiction of PTSD

Klaus can't stop bouncing his foot.

It's not that he's nervous. He really isn't. He’s been through a war - he’d need a whole lot more to make him nervous. Maybe it's the fact that he needs a drink. Maybe it's the overwhelming feeling of dread.

Maybe it's the fact that he doesn't know if he’ll ever see Dave’s face again.

Diego groans. “Can you stop that? I'm trying to drive here.”

Klaus rolls his eyes, but still stops his foot. It only takes about two seconds before he starts tapping his fingers against his knee. He needs to do  _ something _ , and none of his siblings would let him grab any alcohol unless he gave them answers about why he disappeared for days and then showed up missing one leg and having a burned arm. But there was no way he was going to talk about it.

Diego’s trying to make conversation, but Klaus isn't listening. There’s no point. There's no point in anything, really. Not when Klaus is all alone again.

He just had to get out of the stupid fucking house and get a bottle of  _ something _ inside of him. “Just drop me off here,” he says when he sees the bar. Diego gives him a side-eye but does it anyway. 

“I can help you out, if you need,” Diego tells him. He says it like it's not a big deal, but Klaus knows it is. He knows his siblings want answers. But right now all he really cares about is getting drunk and finding some way to see Dave.

Klaus just waves the offer away and gets out of the car himself. The prosthetic on his leg is old and shitty, so it makes walking a bit more difficult than he’d like, but he can handle it. He stumbles slightly as he gets out of the car, but quickly makes his way to the door labeled VETERANS OF FOREIGN WARS.

He immediately leans over the bar and gets himself a drink. The less sober he could be right now, the better. 

Klaus is pleasantly warm by the time he begins to wander around the bar. His mind is buzzing with pictures and memories of Dave. He sees men all around the bar talking with their friends, and Klaus has a distant thought that this could've been him. It could've been him and Dave. They could have grown old together and meet up with the other people who they fought with and who survived. They could've shared funny anecdotes and laughed solemnly when someone brought up a memory of someone who was killed. It could have been them.

The thought doesn't go much further, though, because a picture catches his eye. Immediately, Klaus’ heart swells. It swells with love and with happiness, but also with sadness and grief. 

It's a picture from the war. He and Dave are standing next to each other, and they're smiling ever so slightly. Tears start to come into Klaus’ eyes and he touches his fingers to the glass that separates him from the photo. 

He loved Dave’s smile. He loved the big toothy grins he gave. He loved the big hearty laugh that came from his chest. He loved when Dave would let Klaus lay his head on his shoulder and he loved being between Dave’s arms, staring at his lips. He loved hearing Dave talk passionately about books that Klaus had never read. Everything that Klaus loved about Dave came flooding back so suddenly.

“Dave,” he mutters quietly to himself. “God, Dave.” Dave was perfect. Klaus was the one who fucked up.

Klaus feels like he can still hear the gunshots and the explosions from that day. He can still hear himself yell Dave’s name in desperation. He can still see the bloody wound on Dave's head.

He pulls himself away and wipes the tears from his eyes. His heart is beating faster and he has to force himself to breathe. But he does it.

He turns back to the picture. All he can focus on is Dave. The softness in Dave's smile. The muscles in his arm.

A hand touches the shoulder of Klaus’ good arm and he flinches. But when he turns around, it's just Diego. Klaus sighs. “Just go away, please.”

“Not until you talk to me,” Diego tells him. 

“Is that a threat? Are you threatening me?” Klaus asks tiredly. Diego’s hand falls off his shoulder.

“Hey, are you guys lost or something?” someone asks from behind them. Klaus turns around to look at the guy. He looks slightly familiar, but Klaus can't quite put his finger on it.

Diego shakes his head. “We were just about to leave,” he promises. “My brother here just had a bit too much to drink.” Klaus rolls his eyes.

“Wait, wait,” the man says. He’s looking down at Klaus’ burned arm. “How'd you get those?” he asks.

Klaus sighs. “How do you think?” he says, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“We’ll get out of your way,” Diego interrupts, grabbing Klaus’ arm.

The man shakes his head. “No, you two aren't a bother at all,” he assures them. Then he turns back to Klaus. “You serve?”

Klaus runs a hand through his hair. “Something like that.”

“Wait, you did  _ what _ ?” Diego asks. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

The man chuckles, and Klaus can't help but shake the feeling that he's heard that laugh before. “Vietnam?” he asks. “‘Cause I swear, I had a buddy who got his arm fucked up just like yours. And the leg, too.”

A small smile creeps up on Klaus. “You were in Vietnam?”

He chuckles again and shrugs.

Klaus’ jaw drops as he recognizes the man in front of him. “King!” he says, extending his arms wide. “You're still fucking alive!”

King rolls his eyes and pats Klaus’ back. “I could say the same about you. What the fuck happened? You should be old as hell now, Klaus.”

“I feel old as hell,” Klaus complains.

“Wait, wait, what is happening?” Diego asks. “Who are you? And how do you know Klaus?”

King nods and extends his hand to Diego. “I'm Michael King. I served with Klaus in ‘Nam.”

Diego shakes King’s hand slowly, clearly still confused. 

“I can explain it all later, D,” Klaus promises. “You can go do whatever shit you have to do.”

King nods. “I’ll take good care of him.”

Diego pauses for a second, clearly unsure of what he should do. Then, with a resigned sigh, he nods his head. “Don’t let him do anything too dumb,” he says. He looks Klaus up and down real quick as if checking to see that he’s still okay and then leaves.

Klaus and King sit down at a table in the corner of the bar. Klaus is still in shock from seeing King again, and he wouldn't be surprised if King was in just as much shock. “How’s the leg?” King asks.

Klaus shrugs, bending and extending his prosthetic leg. “Eh,” he says. “It’s working, I guess, which is better than nothing. What about you? How's your shoulder?”

“Not great,” King admits. “But the old age doesn't help,” he adds with a laugh. “Doesn't hurt me too much, though. My granddaughter thinks the scar from the bullet is cool, so it's not all bad.”

“Granddaughter!” Klaus repeats. “Congrats, King!”

King looks down at the table bashfully. “It's nice,” he says. “I told you about my girlfriend back in ‘Nam, right? Well, I proposed to her once we got home and she said yes. Then we had two beautiful kids - a boy and a girl.”

Klaus smiles. “That's good to hear.”

“Yeah. Heather, the older one, got married. Her and her wife adopted a beautiful girl named Harper. And then our son, David, is studying to become a doctor.” King’s eyes glaze over briefly with sadness. “We actually named him after Dave. You remember him?”

Klaus’ smile turns a little sadder. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

King nods. “You two seemed pretty close,” he says. “I'm sorry about what happened to him.”

Klaus doesn't even realize there are tears in his eyes until one rolls down his cheek. “Yeah, we were close,” he says. “Really fucking close, actually.” His burned hand unconsciously grips on to the dog tags under his shirt. “I’ll miss him.”

“We lost some good men out there,” King says, “but Dave was… he was a hell of a guy. I'm really glad there was someone who cared for him as much as you did.” 

Klaus looks down at the table, his hand still moving over the tags. 

“You two - I apologize if I read it all wrong, but - you two were cute together. I'm sorry you had to see what happened to him. But I'm glad you seem to be healing well. And looking as good as ever, apparently.”

“Thanks, King. I hope you and your family do well.” He looks up again and sees King’s sincere eyes staring back at him. 

“You too, Klaus. Hopefully, I’ll see you another time.” King picks up his glass and tips it to Klaus slightly, then walks away.

Klaus feels a little better, knowing that there's someone else in this world who is helping keep Dave’s memory alive.


	5. Hit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tale_to_tell  
> I have already requested before but I have a new one, if that’s alright (this one can replace my old one). It’s also not strictly season 2. Five is out and saves someone’s life by transporting in front of them to take the hit or something. He starts to die and he heart stops so he appears to Klaus as a ghost. Klaus doesn’t realize at first that Five is a ghost, but when he does he freaks out. He and the others rush to find him. Five is revived and they all are happy. Thank you for opening the requests again, I understand if you don’t get to mine :)
> 
> I hope you like it!  
> TW: depictions of death and violence

It's not like he  _ planned _ to do it.

When Five woke up that day, he didn't plan to be a “hero.” He was taking the day off, actually. He was just taking time to enjoy himself and enjoy the fact that after everything, he was still alive.

But apparently, he's not allowed to do that.

Apparently, Five Hargreeves has to  _ do _ things.

Five went to the movie theater. He missed the movies, being in the apocalypse. Not that he got to see many movies when he was in the Academy, but it hurt even more to know that he had absolutely no way of watching a movie if he wanted to. So he decided to take advantage of his day off and go watch a movie.

He watched a Disney movie, of all things. And though he would never admit it, he liked it. He liked having a few hours to himself to pretend that he was still a kid. 

But that didn't last long.

It was still bright when Five left the movie theater. He planned to walk a little bit, maybe find an ice cream place on his way home, and then call it a day. He could just relax in his room, watch some television, play Tetris. 

But, of course, he can't do that.

There's a feeling in Five’s gut that something is  _ wrong _ . He doesn't know what’s wrong, but he knows that there has to be something. Something was happening.

There was some honking in the street, and then a car speeds up into the parking lot of the movie theater. Five sees a hand pointing out of the window of the car. And then the sun hits something in his hand.

A gun.

If he had time, he would have yelled something. “Run,” maybe. Or “gun.” Something to catch the attention of the people around him and keep them safe. 

But he didn't have that time because the man in the car pulls the trigger and someone is about to get shot.

So Five does the one thing he didn't want to do that day.

He helps someone.

He spatial jumps in front of the girl that the gun is pointed at. He hears three shots being fired, and he hears people scream. The girl behind him screams the loudest. For a second, Five worries that a bullet had still hit the girl, but after a few seconds he realizes she was safe.

And he realizes that he’s bleeding.

People are running around him. Some are running away from him and away from the gunshots, while others are running towards him and trying to tend to his wound. He hears tires screech as the car pulls out of the parking lot.

The girl who was behind him is crying over him. Five realizes that he’s on the ground. He’s bleeding over the sidewalk, ruining the clothes he’s wearing. He looks down and sees that the bullet hit him in his abdomen.

He hears someone on the phone. He assumes they're calling for paramedics. But he knows that they won't get there fast enough. 

Based on where the bullet hit him and how far away the closest paramedics are, Five knows he will bleed out before he can get help. 

The people above him are talking to him, asking him questions. They're asking for his name, asking where his parents are. Five knows it would be a waste of time answering them. Instead, he focuses on the sharp pain in his chest and the heaviness of his eyes. The faster he could die, the easier it would be.

It doesn't take long for Five to feel lighter. He doesn't hurt anymore. He doesn't hear people around him yelling. And then he realizes that he's no longer on the ground.

In front of Five is Klaus, who is laying down on what seems to be a roof. Klaus turns their head to the side then, nodding in Five’s direction. “Hey there, Five,” they greet lazily. “What's up?”

Five blinks a few times and looks down at his hands. He doesn't  _ feel _ dead. There is still an ache where he was shot, but the pain has subsided mostly. 

“Ignore me then, I guess,” Klaus says, rolling their eyes. “You just come on to  _ my _ roof and don’t even say hello.”

“H-Hey,” Five responds. 

“There we go! Now that wasn't too hard, was it?” Klaus turns to look at him again, and the smile that was on their face quickly falls. “Uh, you okay there, buddy?” They slowly get up from their position on the roof and points to the bloody wound in Five’s chest. 

Five shakes his head. “Uh, no,” he says. “I think I kinda fucked up.”

“Yeah, no shit. What the fuck happened?” Klaus extends their hand to rest it on Five’s shoulder, but their hand falls through the body. Klaus’ eyes widen even more. “Fuck,” they mutter.

He nods. “Yeah. Fuck.”

“You're fucking dead,” Klaus says, taking steps back. “Fuck, you're fucking dead!”

“I'm not dead yet, Klaus,” Five quickly assures them. “Or, uh. I don’t think I'm dead yet. I - I think I'm still alive.” When he focuses on it, he can still hear the worried chattering of the people at the movie theater. “Yeah, yeah, I have to be alive.”

Klaus lets out a breath of relief. “Oh, thank god.” They run a hand through their hair and close their eyes. 

Five shakes his head. “Don’t get too confident just yet. I’m still on the  _ verge _ of death.”

They nod. “Right. Right. Uh, wh-where are you? Do you need help?”

He scoffs. “Yeah, I do need help,” he mutters sarcastically. Klaus opens their mouth to retort, but Five speaks again before they have the chance. “I’m - well, my body is - at the movie theater. The big one, that we used to sneak in to when we were kids.”

“Alright. We can get there in, like, three minutes,” Klaus says. “I can round up the others real quick and we’ll be right there.” Klaus starts their way down from the roof and inside the Academy, telling the rest of the siblings what happened.

When they all get to the movie theater, they see a group of people standing around something. And then they see the blood across the sidewalk, and they know that it’s Five’s body.

Vanya hops out of the car first, pushing people out of the way to get to her brother. 

“I don't think he’s breathing,” she hears someone mutter. She sees someone has a rag pushing against his bulletwound, trying to stop the bleeding as much as they can. And she sees the dead and limp body of her brother. Even though Vanya knows that they can still help Five, she feels her heart break just at the sight of her brother being in this state.

Her other siblings quickly pile out of the car after her, now expanding the circle around Five’s body. “He’s our brother,” Luther shouts, making people get out of the way for them.

“He saved my life,” a woman says. She goes over to Diego and Allison and starts thanking them for what Five did and asking if she can help at all. 

Five - or, the almost ghost of Five, at least - is standing next to Klaus, looking down at his body. It's an experience he never thought he’d have, looking at his own dying body. But here he is.

There’s a distant thought in Five’s mind.  _ Today was supposed to be a nice day. _

Klaus turns to Five. “What should we do?” they ask.

Five sighs and shakes the thought from his head, instructing his siblings on what to do. They do some quick work with his body on the sidewalk, but then bring him home where they have the proper medical tools to bring his body back to life.

There’s a span of a few hours where Five doesn't know what happened. He had slowly started to go back into his own body and away from Klaus and his ghost self, but there were a few hours where Five was still unconscious. He wakes up in his own bed and in a new shirt, his siblings by his bedside. They're all talking to each other quietly, unaware that Five is awake.

Five moves to adjust the position he’s lying down in, but accidentally moves the wrong way and groans loudly as he irritates his wound. Immediately, his siblings turn to him. Five smiles weakly. “Any chance I could get some pain killers?” he asks.

“On the table,” Luther tells him. 

Sure enough, on Five’s bedside table, there's a glass of water and two pills. He carefully sits himself up and takes them. “Thanks.” Five pulls his shirt up to look at his stitches. “Not bad,” he mutters.

“We did our best,” Allison says with a little laugh.

Five nods. He feels like letting the comfortable silence fall over them, but knows that he can't. Not yet. So he takes a deep breath. “Thank you, guys,” he says.

Diego shrugs. “No problem.”

“Really, though, thank you. You guys, uh… you literally saved my life.”

“You've done it for us,” Vanya says. “It was just time for us to return the favor.”

Allison nods. “It's what family does.”

Five smiles. “Well, I'm glad I have you guys as my family.”


	6. Non-Binary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cynical_Sheep  
> yess so excited you're doing these for s2 <3 <3 <3  
> request: klaus maxing out his charisma stat and charming his way into something to help the hargreeves; perhaps they're trying to stay a night in a hotel but they look a mess and have no money, allison is pressured into rumouring the receptionist but klaus talks them over into giving them a room. bonus if klaus asks for the receptionists pronouns and they bond over being non binary 👀
> 
> I hope you like it!

"Diego,” Klaus says, slapping their brother’s arm, “wake up.”

Diego bolts up, his grip around the steering wheel tightening. “Right,” he says, blinking a few times.

Five sighs. “You are clearly not in a good state to drive. Pull over.”

Diego doesn't even think before doing it, slowly pulling their car over to the side of the road. “Whose turn is it to drive?”

Vanya shakes her head. “Not mine. I already drove.”

Klaus laughs. “Well, I know you don’t want  _ me _ behind the wheel.”

“Luther?” Diego asks, struggling to stay awake.

Luther sighs. “Fine.” He steps out of the car and makes his way over to the driver’s seat. He only gets half of his body in before he stops and rubs the bridge of his nose. “I swear to god, none of you can laugh.”

“What is it?” Diego asks.

Another sigh. “I think I'm stuck.”

Immediately, Klaus laughs. Diego chuckles a little. “If I wasn't almost asleep,” he says, “I would be laughing right now.”

Vanya rolls her eyes, but she's smiling. “I'll help you out,” she offers, stepping out of the car.

“Well, that takes out Luther,” Five says. The others nod in agreement.

“So… Allison?” Klaus asks. They turn around from their spot in the passenger seat to see Allison sleeping. Her head is falling forward, so she’ll have one hell of a neck cramp when she wakes up. “Doesn't look like she’ll be driving,” they say.

“I have volunteered to drive  _ multiple _ times,” Five reminds them.

The car rattles when Luther’s body gets pulled out of the door. “And we have told you  _ multiple  _ times,” he says, slightly out of breath, “we’ll be arrested.”

Five rolls his eyes. “Fine,” he agrees. “Then let's just get a motel or something.”

“I can drive there,” Vanya offers. “But after that, I'm done.”

The drive to the motel is quiet, full mostly of snoring and some sleep talking.

Luther gently wakes up Allison and Diego when they get to the motel, and they all tiredly stumble to the front desk. 

“Hi,” Vanya greets the receptionist at the desk. The receptionist has a big and nice smile, though it's probably just for show considering their job. “Uh, would we be able to get three rooms for the night?”

The receptionist nods. “That should work,” they say cheerfully. “Lemme just check that out real quick.” The receptionist types some things into a computer, then turns back to Vanya. “Yep, we have three rooms open. That will be $150, and extra for any add ons you would like.”

Vanya nods slowly. “Right, right, uh - gimme a second.” She turns back to her family, clearly distressed. Then, in a hushed tone, she tells them, “I don’t have any money.”

“Shit,” Diego says. “I don’t either.”

The rest of the siblings shake their heads. 

Five runs a hand through his hair in exasperation. “Fuck. Alright. Let me talk to her real quick.” 

Five talks to the receptionist for a total of half a minute before he turns back to his family. “Well, apparently the blood on my tie doesn't help my case for getting a free room!” he says. “Allison, could you just - could you just rumor her?”

Everyone turns to her. Allison sighs. “You know I can't do that.”

“Well, there's no reason you  _ can’t _ ,” Five points out. “You have your powers for a reason. Just use them.”

“It's unethical!” she explains. “There is no reason for me to manipulate an innocent person into doing something for  _ my _ gain. It never works out.”

Luther sighs. “I’m sorry, Allison, but I agree with Five on this one. We really need a place for the night, and this is the only way to do it.”

“Luther-” Allison begins.

“Allison, please,” Vanya says. “It’s not  _ safe  _ for us to be driving right now. We’re all tired. And it's just this one time. I - I understand not wanting to use your powers, but  _ please _ , just… consider it.”

Allison sighs. “Fine. Fine, I'll do it.”

“Woah, woah,” Klaus interrupts. “You don’t have to do this, Ally,” they say.

“Well, what bright ideas do you have, Klaus?” Diego asks. “We kinda need to do something here.”

“Just let me talk to them!” Klaus offers. “And then, if we  _ have _ to, Allison can rumor them.”

Allison shakes her head. “Fine,” she agrees reluctantly. “I don’t really feel like arguing with you on this.”

Klaus pumps their fist in the air. “Nice!”

Beside Klaus, Ben is leaning against a wall. “Do you even have a plan for this?” he asks.

Klaus shrugs. “I feel like I’ve got a hunch,” they admit.

When Klaus walks up to the desk, the receptionist isn't smiling as much as they did for Vanya. “How can I help you?” they ask.

“I’m sorry for my siblings - ” Klaus glances down at the receptionist’s name tag “ - Ashton. You seem like a really nice person, and I don’t wanna take up too much of your time. I’m Klaus.” They hold out their hand, and Ashton takes it tentatively. 

“Nice to meet you, Klaus,” Ashton says.

“And you too, Ashton. Now, I hope this isn't a weird question, but could I ask for your pronouns? I just don’t want to misgender you,” Klaus explains.

Ashton looks slightly taken aback by the question. “Oh, I - I use they/them pronouns,” they say. “Uh, thank you for asking. That's really considerate.”

“Of course!” Klaus says cheerfully. “I actually use they/them pronouns myself, so I understand the struggle.”

The receptionist smiles. “Really? That's really cool! I don’t meet a lot of non-binary people out here.”

“Yeah, it can be hard. But it's always nice meeting a fellow  _ thude _ out in the wild!”

Ashton chuckles a little. “Thude,” they repeat. “That's a new one.”

Klaus shrugs. “I'm just full of knowledge,” they say. “I’ve been out for a while, so I know all the cool enby lingo.”

“I only came out a few years ago,” Ashton admits. “It's… been a change, especially for other people, but I just feel so much more free, y’know? I can finally be who I am.”

“God, you're so right. And it helps that I get to confuse every homophobe I see.”

Ashton laughs. “That is an upside.”

“And  _ clothes _ ?” Klaus says. 

“Yeah!” they agree. “Obviously anyone can wear what they want to, but it's so much easier for me to wear suits and feel confident now.”

“Exactly,” Klaus agrees. “And there's no reason I can't wear a suit  _ and _ a dress. It's basically PEMDAS, so the two things cancel out and then it's not gendered.”

“I - I don’t think that's PEMDAS,” Ashton says, laughing, “but yeah.”

They both take a second to calm down from their laughter. Once they've both calmed down and are breathing normally, Klaus asks, “Hey, would you mind if I get your number? I always love to know more non-binary people around the world.”

They seem hesitant at first but nod and scribble the phone number on a piece of paper. “Here,” they offer, handing it to Klaus. “Maybe you can tell me about some good queer spaces out here.”

“Will do,” they agree. “But, uh, we actually gotta get going,” Klaus tells them. “It's probably better that we find a place to stay the night soon.”

“Wait,” Ashton stops them. “Uh, I shouldn't be doing this, but - I can offer you guys two rooms. I’ll still have to charge you guys, but I can lower the price to $20.”

“Wow,” Ben says. “You actually fucking did it.”

Klaus ignores him. “God, you're so nice,” Klaus says, putting their hand over their heart. “Are you sure, Ashton? I wouldn't want to get you in trouble.”

Ashton nods. “I'm positive. And, y’know what? You can pay in the morning if you really need.”

“You're an angel.” Klaus reaches both their hands out and grabs both of Ashton’s, planting a kiss on both hands. “Thank you so much.”

They smile. “Anytime.” They grab two keys from behind the desk. “Except, uh, not  _ actually _ ‘anytime,’ because this is a one time deal. I could lose my job if I do this again.”

Klaus grabs both keys. “Of course. Again, thank you so much. It really means a lot.”

“Yeah.” Klaus starts to walk away again, but Ashton stops them. “And, uh, just one thing - could you make sure that the kid doesn't bleed on the bed? It's kinda a hassle to clean up.”

They nod. “He gets bad bloody noses,” Klaus lies. “But I'll make sure he cleans up after himself.” 

Klaus walks back to his siblings, holding up one key in each hand. “I told you,” they say.

“She gave us the rooms for free?” Five asks.

“ _ They _ ,” Klaus corrects, “did give us the rooms. But they're not free. It's $20, and we can pay tomorrow.”

“Thank  _ god _ ,” Diego groans. “I'm about to fucking pass out.”

“Me too,” Allison agrees.

As the Hargreeves start to file out to their rooms, Klaus turns around one more time and blows a kiss to Ashton. They grin sheepishly and return the gesture.


	7. Reginald

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1nk  
> Hey I don't know how angsty this shit can be but I have issues, could you do one where Five was r-ped by Reginald as a young kid and then one of the gang finds out and help out Five? Throw in some self harm or something if you want please :)  
> Again sorry if this is too angsty aha  
> I have ✨issues✨
> 
> I hope this works!  
> TW: Rape, incest, self harm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please understand that this topic could be very triggering. Only read it if you feel comfortable doing so. And if you or someone you know has experienced rape or sexual assault, please reach out to people you trust and get the help that you need. You are not alone. If you are in need of immediate help, please call 911.
> 
> (Slight spoilers:) This one shot does include rape, but it also includes grooming, sexual assault, pedophilia, and father / son incest. 
> 
> RESOURCES:  
> RAINN (Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network): 1 (800) 656 4673  
> Rape Crisis England & Wales: 0808 802 9999  
> Crisis Text Line: Text “HOME” to 741741

He thought he was special.

He thought Reginald loved him.

He had “talks” with Five, late at night. Sometimes Reginald would come in angry and screaming and throw Five around, but other times he would come in silently and begin to touch Five without saying anything.

“This is our secret,” he had said after the first few times. “Don’t tell the others; they'll get jealous.” And so Five didn't tell the others. He said nothing about the “talks” that he and Reginald had and his siblings didn't ask.

It had started around the time he was ten. When it started, it didn't happen often. Five was still hesitant about the situation and was still clearly uncomfortable with what Reginald was doing to him, so Reginald didn't want to do it too often. But over time, as Five stopped struggling and fighting and complaining every time Reginald approached him, it began to happen more often. It became like a coping mechanism for Reginald, Five thinks. When their father was sad or angry or in some sort of  _ mood _ , Reginald would go and get himself off as Five laid motionless in bed. He would sometimes even come in while Five was sleeping and do what he wanted.

Five was thirteen when he started fighting back again. The feeling that what Reginald was doing was  _ wrong _ had been persistent in Five for years, but as he got older and learned more about the world and about puberty and sex, he couldn't shake the feeling at all. When his father came into his room at night, Five would tense up and twitch to stop Reginald from using him. But it never worked.

And it was when Five was thirteen that he first started hurting himself. He felt guilty for letting the ”talks” happen. He felt guilty for not telling his siblings. And he just felt  _ dirty _ . He couldn't shake those feelings off of himself. So he started cutting himself and cutting those feelings off. He would punish himself and make himself bleed and cry while looking at his arm and the scars that began to be scattered there. Reginald never said anything when he saw the band-aids show up on Five’s forearms.

The other Umbrella kids didn't seem to notice much difference in Five. And even when they did and when Ben and Vanya would try to talk to him about it, Five would brush them off and say he was fine. Eventually, they stopped bothering him. Eventually, it became the new normal.

Until two days before Five would eventually disappear years into the future.

Reginald had been angry all day. He was working the kids harder than usual and getting even more upset when they were unable to complete tasks, and he was yelling at Grace when she was moving too slow or was in the way. All the kids could sense that Reginald was  _ off _ , but nobody said anything.

So, of course, Reginald went into Five’s room that night. Reginald slammed his hand on the dresser to wake Five up from his sleep and then immediately started yelling. Five wasn't able to understand most of what his father was saying, but he could pick up keywords like “disappointment” and “useless.” And then Reginald got on the bed and tried to rip off Five’s clothes.

Any of the haze from sleep that was in Five’s mind earlier was instantly gone. “Stop,” Five said instinctively. His eyes widen as soon as the words leave his mouth. He hadn’t planned to fight back tonight. He knew Reginald was pissed off and Five didn't want to make him angrier. But Five was pissed off, too. He was tired of being used and taken advantage of. And there was no going back now.

“Shut up,” Reginald spits back. He tries to take off Five’s pants again.

“N-No,” he says. His voice is stronger than he expected it to be. “Get the fuck away from me.”

Now, Reginald seems angrier than Five’s ever seen him. “You ungrateful bastard,” Reginald says. “I raise you and feed you and train you and  _ this _ is how you treat me? You are  _ mine _ , Number Five. You are  _ my  _ property and  _ mine _ to use however I fucking please.” Reginald slaps Five.

“Ow!” Five shouts. “I'm not fucking  _ yours _ .”

Reginald’s angry face turns darker and he starts to laugh. “We’ll fucking see about that, boy.”

Up until that point, Reginald had never tried to have sex with Five - penetrative sex, at least. Reginald had always been content with other things. But it was different this time. Reginald brought Five down to another room, one that was presumably soundproof. “If you make a single noise,” Reginald warned as they were walking through the house, “this won't be our  _ special thing _ anymore.” Though the threat was vague, Five understood. If he alerted his siblings what was going on, it would happen to them, too.

Reginald didn't hesitate to hit, scratch, or throw around Five. He didn't listen to Five’s pleas to stop. He didn't listen when Five said he had never done this before, that he didn't want to do it, that he was sorry, that he would let Reginald do anything, anything but  _ this _ .

Reginald left when he was done. He left Five laying on the cold floor, locking Five in the empty room. But even if the door wasn't locked, Five wouldn't have moved. He couldn't move. He wasn't sure if his mind was empty or full, but he couldn't grab on to any thought that he had. 

At some point, Five started crying. The tears fell down his face and onto his body, and he didn't move. 

At some point, Five started scratching at himself, trying to tear his skin away. He was  _ wrong _ . He was  _ dirty _ . And he wanted to be anywhere else in the world.

Five left two days later. And even though living in a lonely apocalyptic world was shit, there were times where he knew it was better than what he endured with Reginald.

Five probably cut himself for nearly a year when he was alone. He had to stop when one of the cuts got infected because he lacked the medical supplies to clean it. But even when he stopped, the scars were still there.

It wasn't until years later that Five said out loud what had happened. He didn't even mean to tell anyone. But Klaus lifted his hand up - probably for a high five or something similar - and Five flinches, protecting himself. “Woah,” Klaus says. “You're fine, Five. I wasn't going to hit you.”

Five nods slowly, standing up straight again and trying to level out his breathing. “Y-Yeah,” he says, chuckling humorlessly. “I knew that. I was just -” He was just what? Having a reaction from the times his father raped him? Defending himself from the times his father hit him?

“Five,” Klaus says calmly, demeanor completely changed, “it's okay. You don’t have to tell me anything.”

“No,” Five says. “I…” he pauses, “…I want to.”

And so he tells him. He tells him about what Reginald did to him. He tells him about the ”talks,” about the hitting, about the self-harm. “It was probably my fault, though,” he says at the end. “I mean, I egged him on, y’know? Or if I just said no at the beginning -”

“Five,” Klaus interrupts, “you didn't do anything wrong. Reginald  _ raped _ you, dude. You were a kid. You couldn't have done anything to stop him. He was power-hungry and didn't care about anyone's feelings except his own.”

Five nods, but Klaus can tell that Five doesn't believe him.

“I’m sorry you had to experience that, Five,” Klaus says. “What Reginald did to you was horrible. Period. But that's the thing:  _ he _ did it. You didn't do anything.”

Before Five even realizes it, he’s crying. He feels both like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders and like he’s made the worst mistake in his life. “But what if that's the problem?” he asks, voice cracking. “What if I  _ should have _ done something? I-I could have told you and everyone else, or-or -”

“It wasn't your fault, Five,” Klaus repeats. He slowly puts his hands on Five’s shoulder to comfort him and make sure his brother isn't uncomfortable by the contact. “And I will tell you that for as long as I have to. The others will, too. Maybe you won't believe me now, but hopefully, you will soon. And I’ll be here for you if you ever need me. I wish we could've been there for you then, but it's in the past now. It’s over. So we just gotta focus on your healing now and in the future.” Klaus pulls Five into a hug then and lets Five cry against his shoulder. 

“If you need,” Klaus continues, “we can get a professional. You can do therapy shit. Or you can text a crisis line. But I promise you can feel better, Five.”

Five still doesn't believe Klaus when he says it isn't his fault, but he hopes Klaus is right. He hopes that someday, he won't feel guilty for what happened. “Thank you,” he whispers into Klaus’ shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're able to, please check out thebluebench.org  
> They offer lots of resources for people who have experienced sexual assault, as well as for people who have had family members experience it. They have ways you can help prevent sexual assault, as well as ways you can learn about why it's a problem and learn misconceptions about it. They also have inexpensive therapy and workshops for survivors of sexual assault and their family members. They also have a hotline.  
> Blue Bench: (303) 322 7273


	8. Bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barbra  
> Hi! Can’t wait for you to post more of these im very excited!  
> I was wondering if you could do one where klaus is sober and they’re having a Bad day! The ghosts are louder and worse then usual causing Klaus to panic (maybe sitting there covering their ears?) and all the siblings haven’t seen klaus this bad before and try to help them?   
> Thank you!! I understand if you cannot fill this prompt! But thank you anyway!
> 
> Here you go!

They should be okay.

They should be used to it.

Klaus has been sober for nearly a year at this point. It's their longest sober streak since they were a kid. 

But it's been a  _ year _ . They should be okay with it by now. They shouldn’t be thinking of relapsing. They shouldn't be so afraid of ghosts.

If Klaus were able to think properly and speak coherent thoughts, they would probably say this is the worse they've been since their father forced them to be with the ghosts.

It's not a panic attack. Klaus has had enough of those to know what one was. But they also knew that they were just a few ticks away from a panic attack. 

They’re trying to focus on specific voices in the crowd of ghosts, trying to find the voice of Ben or Dave or anyone else remotely sane. They’re not even sure if they're out there in the crowd, but they keep listening. If they stop listening, then what do they have?

Hands touch and pass through Klaus’ body. The hands don’t hurt, but they make Klaus flinch with every touch. “Just - Just leave me alone,” they practically beg.

_ Maybe _ , Klaus thinks,  _ I should just get a drink _ . Once they're drunk, it's all over. The touching, the screaming, the horrible sights in front of them… it would all be over. 

But it's been a year. A whole fucking year.

A man with a bone sticking out of his arm is now right in front of Klaus, and they can't ignore him. There's blood dripping from his mouth and he’s murdering incoherently. Klaus knows he isn't, but it feels like he's talking  _ to  _ Klaus, like he’s trying to convert some sort of message. But, as Klaus eventually learned, most of these ghosts and spirits can't even form a full word in their head, let alone a thought out sentence.

Klaus heard someone yell their name. They immediately turn their head, shielding themselves from the possible attack from the spirit that said their name. 

A hand touches Klaus’ shoulder, but this one doesn't go through him. This one is  _ real. _ “Klaus?” the voice repeats. 

Klaus can't bring themselves to unfurl their body, but they know it's Five who’s speaking to them. “Hey, Klaus, are you alright? Are you hurt?”

Klaus shakes their head. “‘M fine,” he says, trying not to hyperventilate as he gets the words out.

More and more hands reach out, and Klaus feels blood drip onto their arm. But they know that if they look, their arm will be clean and bloodless. But they can't shake the feeling of something dripping onto them, dripping through their skin and back onto the ground.

Suddenly, Klaus is alone again. They can't feel the steady hand of their brother on their shoulder. Or maybe the ghosts are just louder. Maybe Five is there still, taking to them, but the ghosts are too fucking loud to hear him.

They try to focus again. They try to focus on finding the calm voices in the sea of yelling, but they can't find any. There's yelling and blood and Klaus can feel themself drowning deeper and deeper. Their heart is pounding in their ears but they can barely hear it.

Klaus shuts their eyes and puts their head between their knees. They feel so weak. They've been doing this for  _ years _ , and they still can't handle the fucking ghosts.

Suddenly, Klaus feels their body leave the ground. Luther’s picking them up and carrying them over to a couch. Klaus knows other people are talking to them, they can hear their voices, but they can't make out any of the words. Not that it matters, anyway. They’re just left in their own head no matter what anyone says.

A cup of water is splashed in Klaus’ face and their eyes jolt open. “What the fuck!” they yell. 

“You weren't responding,” Allison explains. “We thought you were having a heart attack or something.”

Klaus shakes their head and tries to steady their breathing, but the ghosts are still there. They're calling Klaus’ name in agony, asking Klaus to save them, to put them out of their misery, calling out for their mothers and fathers and children. Klaus starts to cry. “Please just stop them,” they say. “Just - Just get me a glass of - of wine, or whiskey, or  _ something _ , I just need them to  _ leave _ .”

Diego grabs their hand, but he doesn't know what to do. As he looks around at the rest of his siblings, it's clear none of them know what to do, either. Klaus has never been this bad before. At least not that they've seen. Whenever they started panicking about the ghosts when they were younger, they would always just run up to their room. And eventually, the drugs just came too often for them to worry about the ghosts.

“Klaus,” Vanya says, “are you sure you want this? We can do it if you want, but we know you wanted to stay sober…”

Klaus is shaking. “I don’t know,” they say. “I don’t know.”

Hesitantly, Diego pulls them into a hug. “We’re here for you, man,” Diego tells them. “We can wait this out as long as we need to.”

“Whatever you need,” Allison agrees. “Just say the word and we can get it.”

Their voices are still muffled in Klaus’ ears, but now they stand out above the ghosts’. Klaus runs a shaky hand through their hair, as if fixing it will make everything better. “I don't know,” they say again. “Just… don’t leave. I - I need to know  _ something _ is real.”

“We’ll stay here, Klaus,” Luther promises. He puts his hand on their shoulder. 

His hand feels  _ real _ , and it doesn't go through Klaus’ body like the ghost hands do. They hold on to that touch, as well as Diego’s arms still around them. “C-Can you all, um.” Fuck, it's stupid. Klaus should be able to get through this on their own. They should be able to deal with the ghosts.

“It's okay to ask for help,” Five says softly. “That's what we're here for.”

With a shaky inhale, Klaus nods their head. “Just touch me, o-okay? I just need some contact,” they say. “And, uh, k-keep talking?”

The other three siblings immediately try to comfort Klaus. Five and Vanya sit by their legs and Allison is behind them, hands gently massaging their neck. And they keep talking. They don't expect answers from Klaus, but they keep talking as if it's a two sided conversation that Klaus is part of.

And it helps. The ghosts don’t ever really shut up, but they get quieter. Klaus’ head gets clearer. And their siblings are always willing to listen and help Klaus.


	9. Good Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MythicPolaroid   
> If requests are still open, mine is that Klaus has a super bad nightmare due to all the ghosts following him around and begging to be let out of their death, to the point where he wakes up screaming in the middle of the night. No one really cares except Diego who comes and tries to settle him down, and maybe sing him a lullaby. You’re writing is brilliant, keep up the amazing work!  
> I hope you enjoy it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! I had to take a break for a week due to my own mental health, but I'm back now and feel better than ever. I'm working to get to all of the requests I have right now, and hopefully I'll be able to accept more soon. Thanks for being so understand and I hope you like the chapter.

The room is dark.

It feels like the dark is consuming Klaus again, and he can't pull himself out of it.

Klaus  _ knows _ he put a nightlight in his room  _ somewhere _ . There had to be some light, something to pull Klaus out of the darkness. The was being pulled down deeper and deeper by the dark and the fucking  _ ghosts _ and he can't get away from it. He's trapped and he’s going to be pulled down forever and ever until there's nothing left-

With a shout, Klaus shoots up in his bed. He puts his hands to his chest and tries to catch his breath.

He’s breathing. He’s okay. The nightlight is right beside him and there are no ghosts grabbing and scratching at his skin. He's okay.

Klaus’ door is quickly knocked open and Klaus quickly throws his covers back over his head as if something bad is about to happen. But then he hears Diego’s voice. “Klaus?” he says, voice full of concern. “What happened? Are you okay?” He walks over to the bed and slowly pulls the covers down from Klaus’ head.

Klaus doesn't respond. He’s still struggling to breathe, still trying to focus on the small light beside him. It feels like there's a heavy weight in his chest, pushing him back down, and he can't lift it off. The spirits still whisper in his ears and Klaus just wants it all to be gone.

Diego doesn't make Klaus say anything. He just pulls his brother’s head down to his chest, gently stroking his hair as they both lean against the bed frame. “Are you hurt?”

Klaus shakes his head. He feels calmer now, having Diego beside him and hearing his heartbeat. 

“Okay. That's good. Just keep breathing.”

Klaus nods. Just keep breathing. If he just focuses on breathing and focuses on Diego and focuses on the light, he’ll be fine. The ghosts are gone. They're not holding him down anymore. They're not yelling and scratching and fighting. They're gone. And he’s fine.

Klaus doesn't even notice that Allison is outside the door of his bedroom before she speaks. “Can you be quieter?” she asks. She's clearly tired, her hair messy and her eyes swollen. “I really need to get some sleep.” 

“Y-Yeah,” Klaus says. “Uh, sorry.” 

Allison nods, accepting the apology, and goes back to her room.

“That's not right,” Diego says, shaking his head. “She should have  _ at least _ asked if you were okay. It's just - It’s basic decency!”

Klaus sighs. “It's fine, D. ‘M used to it.” He’s always been like this.  _ Overdramatic.  _ Hell, he’s an adult sleeping with a nightlight beside him. Of course, no one would take him, and his fears seriously.

“But you shouldn't be used to it,” Diego tells him. “What if you were hurt? What if you fell off your bed and cracked your skull open?”

Klaus chuckles a little at that, feeling lighter. He doesn't feel weighed down by the spirits anymore. “Clearly I didn’t.”

“But she didn't know that!” Diego argues. He’s laughing a little, too. “What if I was tending to your bloody wound?”

He rolls his eyes. “If this is how you tend to a bloody wound, I better hope someone else is around to help me if I ever do crack my skull open.”

“Fine,” Diego agrees reluctantly. “But I still don’t think she should dismiss you like that. It's not fair.”

Klaus yawns. The spirits are quieter and he feels safe, but now he remembers how tired he is. He barely gets enough sleep as it is, and waking up in the middle of the night certainly doesn't help. “Well, you can tell her that tomorrow,” Klaus says. “For now, you're stuck here because your chest is oddly comforting and I need to sleep.”

Diego chuckles warmly and Klaus smiles as his head moves slightly from it. “Alright. It's probably smart for you to get some sleep.”

A few moments of silence pass, Klaus trying to even out his breathing as Diego’s fingers twirl in his hair softly. Without prompting, Diego starts to sing. “ _ Now it's time to say good night _ .” His voice is quiet, barely a low hum. Klaus is struck instantly with a feeling of nostalgia, remembering nights similar to this when they were ten, eleven. Reginald had decided that they were too old to have Grace sing them to sleep, but Klaus still had trouble because of the ghosts, and Diego readily volunteered.  _ “Good night sleep tight.” _

Klaus laughs. “Fuckin’ dork,” he mutters, eyes still closed. 

Klaus can hear the smile in his brother’s voice. “What?” he asks. “You don't wanna hear my angelic voice?”

He rolls his eyes. He feels like a kid again, but he doesn't really mind. When they were younger, Klaus couldn't get to sleep without knowing there was someone else beside him. He felt safer knowing someone was there, even if he knew they would be gone by the time he woke up in the morning. And even back then, his other siblings dismissed his fears, sometimes even laughed at the fact that he kept a nightlight in his room.

But Diego didn't laugh. He liked being with Klaus, too. When Diego sang, he didn't care about his stutter.  _ “Now the sun turns out his light.” _ And even when Diego did stutter, he knew he wouldn't be laughed at or pushed to get the words out. He knew he was accepted in Klaus’ room the same way he accepted Klaus.  _ “Good night sleep tight. Dream sweet dreams for me. Dream sweet dreams for you.” _

Diego ended up learning a few songs to sing to Klaus. Klaus didn't get mad when Diego sang the same song for a few nights in a row, maybe even a few weeks, but it was nice for Diego to have the variety. But he couldn't deny that his favorite song to sing to his brother was  _ Good Night _ by the Beatles. Diego enjoyed singing it and Klaus seemed to enjoy listening to it. And, after Diego started singing it for long enough, he was able to not stutter for the entire song.

_ “Close your eyes and I'll close mine. Good night sleep tight. Now the moon begins to shine.” _ It's probably been years since Diego has listened to the song, but he still remembers all of the lyrics. He remembers the nights in Klaus’ room, just enjoying the calm presence of his brother and feeling like he was useful. 

Once the drugs started, they stopped doing it. Sometimes Klaus was sneaking out of the house, trying to get more drugs. Other times, he was too high to see the ghosts at all and he was able to get to sleep with no problem.  _ “Good night sleep tight. Dream sweet dreams for me. Dream sweet dreams for you.” _

Klaus’ breathing has evened out, probably somewhere between the real world and a dream. He seems so peaceful like this. He's not being held down by anything. It's nice, knowing that Klaus can still be that way. It's been difficult for Klaus to get sober, and he still has his ups and downs, but Diego is proud of him.  _ “Close your eyes and I'll close mine. Good night sleep tight. Now the sun turns out his light.”  _ Diego wishes it could always be like this.

Diego’s happy to support Klaus. He did it when they were kids and he’ll do it when they're adults, too. He can't even begin to understand all the shit Klaus goes through, but he knows it’s a lot.  _ “Good night sleep tight. Dream sweet dreams for me. Dream sweet dreams for you.” _ But Klaus is a fighter. And Diego will help him fight.

_ “Good night good night everybody. _

_ Everybody everywhere. _

_ Good night.” _


	10. Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mauvrix  
> Hi! i found this recently and i’ve read through all of them already, i really love the way you handle the characters and balance canon and your own thoughts (and others!) i think you’ve said that requests are closed but if that changes or anything in the future i was wondering if you’d be willing to write one about diego and vanya? obviously no pressure because this is supposed to be something you love but if you decide to, i’d be really interested to see maybe one where diego goes to her violin concerts and leaves flowers without her knowing it’s him but then she finds out the second night? idk i just really love your writing but i totally understand being busy or not interested:) hope you have a wonderful day/night!
> 
> Here you go! Hope you enjoy :)

They hadn't seen each other since Allison’s wedding.

The wedding was months ago. It was far behind all of them. But here Vanya is, still sending out invitations for her violin concerts to her long-gone siblings.

She doesn't even know why she doesn't. She doesn't expect them to come. Hell, she's not even sure she wants them to come. Even in violin, Vanya is still only  _ ordinary _ . She doesn't have any solos, doesn't stand at the front of the group. She blends in with everyone else on stage. She’s just like everyone else.

The invitations only go out to Diego and Allison, really. Luther is on the moon, Klaus is who-knows-where, and she doesn't exactly have an address to send invites to Ben or Five.

So she sends Diego and Allison the info for her recital. It's the third, Vanya thinks, that she's invited them to. For the three nights of each recital, no one in her family has shown up. She’s not surprised, really. She's not even disappointed. But it's something she can't help but remember.

After the fifth recital, Vanya stopped. It was clear that neither of her siblings were coming. It was easier this way, too. To just keep her hopes down. If she cuts off communication entirely, then she can't be let down. She knows Diego and Allison care about her. But it's clear they don’t care about this. And Vanya is fine with that.

She’s stopped keeping track of how many recitals she’s played since she stopped inviting her siblings. She managed to stop caring pretty quickly after the first recital, so now it was normal. She had moved on. She went on a few dates with some people, got new clients, and accepted that her life would likely be like that until the next event that required a family meeting. 

And so Vanya’s on stage once again, blending into the rest of the violinists beside her. She doesn't mind too much, though. She’s been ordinary her entire life; a few nights of it won't hurt her. And, even if nobody sees Vanya, she knows she’s enjoying herself. Vanya genuinely  _ enjoyed _ playing the violin, even if she didn't have a solo and didn't stand out in any way.

Vanya no longer looked out at the audience anymore. She stopped inviting people to the recitals, really. She told a few dates here and there about them, mentioning them casually, never expecting the date to go to it. If she has no hopes then nobody can crush them.

There were other reasons, too. She couldn't really make out the faces of anyone in the audience, even if she wanted to. The large crowds made her heart drop, even with her anxiety medication. And, ultimately, it pulled her attention away from her part in the recital. Even if it was small and ordinary, it was Vanya’s. She was determined to do the small task, even if nobody would notice.

So, when she was given a bouquet of flowers at the end of the recital, she was very confused. “Are you sure these are for me?” she asked.

The man holding the flowers nodded. “I mean, you’re Vanya, right? Some person in the audience just told me to give these to you.”

Vanya nods and takes the flowers. “Well. Thank you. Uh, would you happen to know the name of this person?”

He shrugs. “Sorry, didn't give a name.”

“That's fine,” Vanya tells him. “Thanks anyway.”

The man gives a quick nod and walks away. The bouquet he had given Vanya was full of red roses, as well as some purple and white flowers that she didn't know the name of. There was a small note, too.  _ Great job today :) _ it read. Vanya smiled. 

The entire way back to her apartment, Vanya couldn't stop contemplating who had given her the flowers. She had gone on a third date with a woman a night or two before - maybe it was her? Vanya didn't really remember talking about the recital, but maybe she had found out a different way. Or maybe Vanya  _ had _ talked about it and just forget she told her about it.

Except why wouldn't her date just send a text? Or maybe the bouquet  _ and _ a text. And in all honesty, it's not like she and Vanya had a great connection. That third date was probably their last one, so she would have no motivation to watch Vanya play the violin.

But then who was it? Vanya couldn't think of another person in her life who she told about the recital. And if it had been one of her friends or one of her students, they either would have sent a text before the recital or after. But Vanya had yet to receive a text from anyone she knew.

There was a tiny thought in Vanya’s head that maybe it was someone in her family. Maybe it was a sibling. Maybe it was even Reginald. But the thought was ridiculous; nobody had come to anything before. They had no reason to start coming now. But if it wasn't them, then who?

Vanya went to the next night of the recital, still clueless as to who could have left her the bouquet. For one of the first performances in a long time, Vanya took the time to look up from her violin and into the crowd, trying to decipher the shaded faces and see who she recognized. 

Just as she expected, she couldn't see anyone she recognized. She wasn't surprised really. She didn't even know if the person who brought her flowers the first night would be there the second night of the concert. Most people didn't show up for more than one night. Hell, most people Vanya knew didn't even show up for  _ one _ . 

The concert ends and the people in the audience applause. As they stand up, Vanya can see less and less of their faces. She figures that there is no chance of her finding the person in the crowd. She doesn't even know who she’s looking for.

With a resigned sigh, Vanya and other violinists take their bows and everybody begins to leave the stage. People are still clapping, some even hollering in support. There are a few lone flowers being thrown onto the stage, but none of the performers grab them.

Backstage, there are no flowers waiting for Vanya. No bouquet of red roses and purple flowers she doesn't know the name of. No cards or notes or anything. Just like always, she’s alone. Everybody else is hugging their parents or siblings or significant others or other people who attended the concert just for them. But once again, Vanya’s just ordinary. There’s no reason for anybody to show up for her.

While Vanya’s cleaning up her bag and putting away her violin, she hears a familiar voice. It's speaking in a hushed voice and barely noticeable over the other talking going on inside the room, but Vanya hears it. When she turns around, she sees him. Diego. 

Diego stands with a bouquet of flowers in his hands, similar to the one Vanya had received the night before. He’s talking to the same guy that gave Vanya the flowers, too. Vanya can't quite make out what Diego’s saying, but in all honestly, she's not really trying to. Seeing her brother here makes her freeze. She’s not sure if she wants to go up and hug him or turn around and never see him again. Maybe both. 

But Diego’s here. He’s dressed up, too. A nice white button-up with the sleeves up to his elbows and some formal pants. It's the most dressed up Vanya’s seen him since they were kids; he didn't even dress that formal at Allison’s wedding. But he’s here. He’s at Vanya’s concert. He watched Vanya play the violin.

He’s here.

His eyes meet hers for a brief second and he waves to her, then hands the flowers to the man in front of him, likely to give to Vanya. She doesn't wave back. She can't. She's still struggling to accept the fact that Diego showed up.

Vanya now has two more vases filled, both with red and purple flowers. She never really kept flowers out in her house, but she refuses to put these anywhere else. They're a nice reminder. A reminder that Vanya still matters.

After the night of the recital, Vanya sent Diego a message. She didn't get a response. She didn't expect one. But she knew she had to send the text. It was small and probably forgettable, but Vanya wanted her brother to know how much she really appreciated him showing up. So she sends the text.

_ Thank you. _


	11. Appear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> checkr1board  
> these are really good!!!  
> idk if you're still taking requests from season one, but maybe one where when Klaus comes back from Vietnam instead of appearing on the bus he appears at home in front of everyone (maybe the family meeting scene where Leonard is there or a different scene altogether)  
> if ur not taking requests then its cool, great work!!! :)
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

He doesn't even register that he’s home.

His body is covered in some blood and he’s in shock, gunshots and screaming still in his ears. There are tears in Klaus’ eyes, too, tears that are clouding up the room. He can barely discern between his siblings in the room.

“Klaus?” Luther asks.

He’s shaking. The briefcase is still in his hands. That goddamn  _ suitcase _ . In an overwhelming surge of rage, Klaus throws the suitcase across the room, ignoring his siblings.

“Klaus!” Five yells. Five grabs Klaus’ arm to try to hold him back, but Klaus keeps walking towards the suitcase. 

“Fuck!” Klaus slams the briefcase on the ground over and over again, feeling rage course through his veins. For the  _ first time _ in his  _ goddamn life _ , he felt  _ love _ . He loved some goddamn person other than himself, spent  _ months _ in literal fucking  _ hell _ with that man, only for it to be taken away. 

He wants to be numb again. If Klaus could just be numb again, then he wouldn't  _ hurt _ . He  _ hurts _ so much. He throws the briefcase across the room one more time and then sits on the floor and puts his head in his hands, letting himself cry. “Fuck,” he repeats.

“Klaus, man, are you okay?” Diego is by his side quickly, putting his arms around Klaus’ shoulders. “What the fuck happened?”

“You idiot!” Five yells, not giving Klaus time to answer Diego’s question. “You just fucked up the briefcase. That was probably our best shot!” He runs over to the briefcase and throws it out the window quickly, just a few seconds before it slams open and erupts in flames.

“Oh, fuck your briefcase,” Klaus says. “Some people have actual  _ fucking _ problems, Five.”

“Um,” a voice that Klaus doesn't recognize says, “maybe we should go, Vanya.” The voice chuckles slightly. “Kinda feel like I'm intruding on something.”

“Wh-What? Harold, I can't just leave Klaus, are you being ridiculous?” Vanya responds. She joins the others at Klaus’ side, too.

Soon, all of the siblings - excluding Five - are talking to Klaus and trying to comfort him or get him to talk. Klaus just keeps his head down between his knees and shakes his head. “I-I can't do this right now,” he explains, his voice so shaky it was almost pathetic.

“What happened, Klaus?” Allison asks. “Where were you?”

“How the hell did you just teleport in here?” Luther questions, voice slightly harsher than Allison’s had been.

“The fucking briefcase, obviously,” Five answers. “Wh-Wh - How the hell did you get a hold of one of those? Where the hell did you go?  _ When _ the hell were you?”

“When?” Vanya repeats.

“Stop it!” Diego says, raising his voice slightly. “Guys, there are bigger things to deal with than the stupid fucking briefcase. Stop bombarding him with questions, Jesus Christ.”

Klaus takes his hand and wipes it down his face, wiping away a mix of tears and blood. The picture of Dave’s dead and lifeless face flashes across Klaus’ mind and he winces. God, why did Dave have to be so perfect? Why did Klaus have to be so  _ bad _ ? If he had just been paying attention to what was happening then-

“Vanya, we should really go,” the guy named Harold repeats.

Vanya wraps her arm around Klaus’ body. “No, Harold! He’s my brother!”

Harold scoffs. “ _ Brother _ ? Wh-What about everything you told me? What about everything they did to you? It's not exactly like they were  _ good _ siblings to you, Vanya!”

Klaus shakes his head and looks at Harold. “Shut the  _ fuck _ up!” he shouts. “You-You-You are so  _ goddamn _ stupid.”

Vanya sighs. “Klaus, please -”

“No!” he interrupts, standing up on his shaky legs. His heart still aches for Dave and he’s still trying to forget the bullets flying past his head. “This man is a fucking idiot. I swear to god, there are  _ so many _ important things in this world, but this stupid rivalry thing that you think is going on between Vanya and us is not one of those things.”

Harold shakes his head and laughs, but the laugh seems almost anxious. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes, “I didn't mean to overstep. I just thought -”

To be fair, Klaus could've been smarter. He could have thought it out more. He could've heard Harold out or listened to Vanya, or just shut up altogether. Maybe it would've been smarter to go back to his bedroom and grieve, maybe get a couple of drinks or something to make him not sober. But he was just so  _ angry _ . He was angry that Dave was gone. He was angry that this Harold guy was there. He was angry that the person he loved most had died. He was angry that he hadn't done more to stop it. He was angry that he had ever loved in the first place.

And so he punches him.

Now, Klaus throws a good punch. He may seem skinny, and his body may be worn out from years of drug abuse, but he wasn't weak. While Reginald hadn't been a good father, he wasn't a bad trainer. Not to mention the fact that Klaus had just been in a literal war for months. Those factors, combined with an overwhelming amount of anger and grief, made a pretty strong punch.

“Ow!” Harold shouts, stumbling back. He’s holding his nose. He’s lucky Klaus didn't shoot for the throat. Harold pulls his hands away from his face to reveal blood. “You-You fucking broke my nose!”

“Oh, get over it,” Klaus says. He doesn't necessarily feel better, but he definitely doesn't feel worse. He can get the adrenaline pumping through his veins again, make his mind fog up so he's not thinking about Vietnam and about Dave. 

Klaus lifts his fist again, ready to throw another punch, but Luther grabs his arm. “Woah, man, chill out.”

Klaus takes a deep breath and nods. Right. Dave probably wouldn't want him to do that. Dave wouldn't want Klaus to mourn his death. Dave would barely throw a punch at the homophobes back in the bars, even when he was beaten and bloody. Of course, he wouldn't want Klaus to do this. Of course, Klaus shouldn't do this.

He starts crying again. He can't help it. The tears start rolling down Klaus’ face again and he curls back up on the ground.

“I’m so sorry, Harold,” Vanya says, cautiously tending to his nose. “I-I don’t think it's broken, but it wouldn't hurt to get you to a doctor. I’m so sorry.”

“Klaus, let's go to your room, man. Take some time to calm down.” Diego helps Klaus off the ground again and starts taking him towards his room. Allison is beside him, too, saying soothing things that Klaus isn't listening to.

In all honesty, Klaus doesn't know what happened next. He just remembers curling up in his dark bedroom, crying, wishing he had a fucking drink. 

Or that he had Dave.


	12. Pregnant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BeluKertasOrang  
> hey there! uh, it's my first time leaving a request so I don't know if I'm doing this right?  
> can I have a pregnant!Lila and worried-out-of-his-mind!Diego? Please?   
> Like, we all know they did the nasty but then hell broke loose and she left but can you write about a reunion and she telling him she's pregnant? I really don't know how to explain it better, english is not my first language...   
> Anyways, hope you have a nice day, take care!
> 
> Here you go!

She almost decided to not go after him.

Maybe if she just didn't let him know, it would be better. Maybe if she just did everything on her own, it would be better.

But Lila couldn't do that. And she knew it.

It wasn't too difficult tracking down Diego. He was always a little bit too obvious in what he did. He probably didn't even try to stay hidden. Any person who put in even a little bit of effort would be able to find where the Hargreeves were. It was quite stupid if you asked Lila, but it was also very convenient.

Lila watched Diego for a few days, trying to figure out the right place to finally talk to him. But in the end, there never really was a right place or a right time. But the clock was ticking and she had to tell him eventually.

She finally corners Diego in an alleyway one day. It was clear Diego knew he was being watched. He probably thought he was smart for going down the alley. And maybe if it had been anyone but Lila, he would have had the advantage. But he didn't when it was her.

“What do you want?” Diego asks, back still turned to Lila as he walks farther down the alley.

Lila’s voice comes out more serious than she expects it to. “We need to talk, Diego.”

Her voice stops him right in his tracks. “Lila?” He turns around and takes a few steps towards her. “Wh-What are you doing here?  _ How _ -”

“Not now, Diego, please,” Lila almost begs. Diego shuts up immediately, clearly sensing the distress in Lila's voice. “I-I have to tell you something. I think it's important that you find out, and important that you find out from  _ me _ -”

Diego takes a few steps closer and takes Lila's hands in his own. “It's okay, Lila,” he assures her. “Whatever it is, it's okay.”

Lila takes a shaky breath and nods her head. A warm drop of water falls onto their joint hands. She didn't even realize she was crying. But Diego’s eyes are so sincere, so full of concern that Lila doesn't even deserve, and she knows she made the right decision. She has to do this. “Diego, I’m - I’m pregnant.”

His eyes widen and his grip on her hands loosen. “You’re - what? What do you mean you're pregnant? H-How long have you known? When did…” Diego pauses for a second, trying to recompose himself. “Am I the father?”

Lila smiles slightly. “Yes, you are the father. I haven't known for long, just a little over a month.”

He nods. “Okay. Okay, that's good. That's good. What, uh, wh-what’s your plan? Do-Do you wanna have it? Do you wanna  _ keep _ it? What, uh, what do you wanna do?”

“Do  _ you _ want to keep it?” Lila already has her mindset on keeping the baby, but she needs to know if Diego wants that, too.

Diego takes another deep breath. “I mean, the decision is up to you, obviously, but, uh, if-if you want to, then, uh, y-yeah, I think -”

Lila pulls Diego’s head down into a kiss. It's slower, more gentle than most of the other kisses they've had. Lila thinks distantly that she'd like to get used to kisses like that. “Alright,” she says. “Then we’re keeping it.”

It takes a second for that sentence to register in Diego’s mind, but then he starts laughing. He can't wipe the smile off his face and he pulls Lila into a hug. “Y-You’re pregnant. With a kid.  _ O-Our  _ kid.” A tear falls on Lila’s back and she realizes Diego is crying, too.

He pulls away and his face quickly falls again. “H-How are we gonna do this? We don’t have stable sources of income. I-I’m trying to stop the end of the fucking  _ world _ . I don’t know anything about babies or kids or - or -  _ anything _ . I play with knives, fucks sake! How are we -”

“Hey,” Lila interrupts, trying to calm Diego down. “You’re spiraling. We can figure that all out later. We have  _ months _ to do that. I promise it's okay.”

He takes a breath and nods, resting a hand on her cheek. “Yeah. Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry. This is just… kinda fuckin’ crazy, y'know?” he laughs. “Just - I’ll be here for you Lila, okay? Whatever you need, just say the word. Food, massage, whatever. I want to help.”

Lila smiles and leans into his hand. “I may take you up on that massage,” she jokes. “But right now, let's just get out of this alley and talk about it, okay?”

“Okay,” Diego agrees.

As soon as Diego knew about the pregnancy, it was hard to get it off his mind. He was practically inseparable from Lila, constantly making sure she was okay. Not just for the baby -  _ his _ baby - but for her, as well. Even though Lila was early in the pregnancy and didn't have much of a baby bump, Diego insisted that she be on her feet as little as possible and already invested money into things like heating pads.

More often than not, Diego was up until three in the morning reading parenting help books. He taught himself how to put a diaper on a kid before they even knew what the kid’s sex was. He was already thinking about the best toys to buy the kid and how to afford them. He had already started a special saving account for baby necessities like a crib, a stroller, diapers, and other things that they needed.

Lila only knew these things because she woke up during one of those nights when Diego was awake much later than was healthy. He was sitting up in their bed, a worried expression on his face as he scrolled through his phone. Lila groaned.

Immediately, Diego’s eyes went to meet hers, which were still just beginning to open. “Hey, you okay?” he asks gently. He puts his phone face down on the table beside him and lowers himself into the bed. “Did I wake you up?”

Lila shakes her head and nuzzles closer to Diego. He chuckles slightly, wrapping his arm around her. “Alright, baby. Do you need anything?”

She shakes her head again. “Let’s just sleep,” she says.

Diego nods, but after a few minutes, he grabs his phone again. Lila flicks his chest, making him jolt slightly. “What was that for?”

“Sleep,” she grumbles again.

He sighs. “Lila, it's fine. You can sleep.”

Lila rolls her eyes and slowly sits up more in the bed. “Diego, we talked about this.”

“I know. It's fine,” he assures her. “I’m just… preparing.”

She laughs. “For what?”

He shrugs, shutting off his phone. “Nothing. It's fine.”

“You can't just say that every time I ask a question,” she says. She leans closer to him. “C’mon, D. You have to trust me. Tell me what's bothering you.”

Diego sighs. She was right. If this was going to work, their relationship had to be a truthful one. “‘M just nervous,” he explains. “For, y’know. The kid.”

Lila nods and lays her head on his shoulder. “What about it?”

Another sigh. “I don't know. Just… me, I guess. What if - What if I'm not good enough?”

That makes Lila laugh. “Not good enough?” she repeats. “Baby, not to be rude, but that's - that's absurd.”

Diego rolls his eyes. “How is it absurd? I-I didn't have a good father figure growing up. I don’t know how to be a dad. I - What if I'm bad at it? What if I'm not nurturing enough? Or - Or what if I'm negligent? What if I fuck our kid up just like Reginald fucked me up?”

“Sweetheart, I know that won't happen.” Lila trails a finger down Diego’s arm, letting her eyes close.

“How do you know?”

“Do you think,” she asks, “Reginald was ever worried about being a good father?”

He scoffs. “No. Of course not.”

“Well then, you're already a step ahead of him.”

Diego nods. “I guess,” he agrees reluctantly. “But we don’t know what will happen. We don’t know if the kid will have powers or something crazy like that, and what am I supposed to do if they do? What am I supposed to do if they  _ don’t _ ? Or what if they just hate me? What if they stutter like I did? What if they're bullied in school? What if -”

Lila tilts Diego’s head towards hers with one hand, gently ghosting her lips against his. “It will be okay, Diego.” She understands his worries, she really does. She’s worried, too. But she is confident about this.

He shakes his head. “How do you know?”

“Because you're the father,” she explains. She kisses him gently. “We have time, Diego. Let’s just sleep right now.”

Diego sighs. She’s right. Right now, it's still just Diego and Lila. They have time. They'll figure it out.

Together.


	13. Signs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy  
> T_T break my heart why don't you.  
> Along this same vein, I know that Luther has canonically struggled with self harm... can I request a continuation of this where Luther confronts Diego about his cutting because he recognizes all the signs (and covering it up, etc.)? And maybe they bond over their shared struggle? OR they could have a fight/it could be angsty.
> 
> In all honesty, I couldn't find what chapter you commented on so this isn't *really* a continuation, but I did my best! I hope you like it :)  
> TW self harm

Two months, one week, and four days.

That's how long Luther Hargreeves has been clean.

Luther’s addiction wasn’t one of alcohol or drugs. His was something else. It was something no one ever seemed to recognize, something that no one ever seemed to care about. They constantly brushed him off as dramatic or just wanting attention. But Luther wasn't either of those things. He wasn't dramatic. He didn't want attention.

He just wanted help.

He never got that help, though. Luther just learned to help himself. For those two months, one week, and four days, Luther hadn't cut himself.

The scars were still on his thighs, evidence of all that he had done, but Luther had hurt himself for over two years without anyone noticing. Even now, it goes unnoticed.

That's the worst part about it, Luther thinks. He felt so alone. He felt like he was crying for help but nobody could hear it. He felt unwanted in the world, even by his family. It was what hurt Luther the most.

Luther was two months, one week, and four days clean when he finally confronted Diego. It had been about a week before that that Luther noticed the problems his brother was having. Diego had begun to talk less, he was always wearing long sleeves and covering his arms, he was constantly itching his forearms, and he just seemed like a shell of the boy he used to be. As sad as it was, Luther recognized those signs. He recognized the silent call for help.

His knock on Diego’s door was gentle and unsure. He and Diego didn't exactly talk about stuff like that. They didn't talk about their feelings much. Luther had Allison and Diego had Klaus and Ben. It worked out fine. But now Luther has no idea where to start.

“Come in Ben,” Diego says.

Luther opens the door just enough to get inside the room, then closes the door behind him. “Not Ben,” he says.

Diego sighs and closes the comic book he was reading. “Wh-What do you w-w-want, L-Luther?” he sounds annoyed, almost angry, but Luther can't figure out why.

He takes a few more careful steps into the room and takes a deep breath. “Uh, how are you, Diego?” he asks, looking at his feet.

Diego shrugs. “F-Fine. Wha-What d-d-do you want?”

“I don’t want anything,” Luther promises, meeting his brother’s eyes. “I, uh, I don’t really know how to say this I guess.” He mentally curses himself for a moment, annoyed that he didn't come up with some plan for what to say. It's just the same for when they're going on a mission; they plan out what they do and then execute it. If Luther had been thinking rationally, he would have done that. But now here he is, standing with his mouth open like a dumbass in Diego’s room.

“Sp-Spit it o-out,” Diego says.

Normally, Luther would chuckle at hearing Diego say that. That phrase wasn't uncommon for them to say, but usually, it was directed at Diego and it wasn't him directing it at someone else. Right now, though, Luther is too worried to laugh. “Alright, I just gotta say it,” he whispers to himself. “Diego, uh, a-are you hurting yourself?”

As soon as the question leaves Luther’s mouth, Diego tenses up in a way Luther doesn't think he's ever seen him do. The only thing it comes close to is when Diego first saw the needle that they were going to get tattooed with. He looks…  _ afraid _ , almost.

Diego doesn't respond before Luther talks again, taking a few steps closer to his brother. “I-It’s fine if you do! Well, it's not  _ fine _ , but, I-I won't be mad at you. Or I won't tell Dad. I just - I wanna help you, Diego. You're just… you don’t seem good. You don’t seem  _ happy _ . I don’t - I just want to help. I promise.”

He doesn't say anything. Diego folds his arms across his body as if he were protecting himself, but he doesn't say anything. So, Luther tries to assure him that he doesn't want to hurt him. “I get it, Diego, I -”

“Get out,” Diego interrupts.

Luther pauses for a second. “Wh-What?”

“G-Get. Out,” he repeats. He’s not looking at Luther, just somewhere in the distance. His teeth are clenched together, his whole body still tense with stress.

“N-No, Diego -”

“No!” Diego yells. “ _ L-L-Leave _ .”

Luther nods and takes a few steps back. He should have had a plan. He shouldn't have just run into Diego’s room with no plan, with no idea of how to bring it up or what to do when he brought it up. He should have had a plan. “I'm sorry,” he apologizes. “I just want to help you. I promise. I-I hurt myself, too. Not anymore, but -”

“Y-You  _ do-don’t _ g-get it, Luther,” Diego says, voice harsh. “You d-don’t! Your l-li-life is f-fucking  _ perfect _ , you a-asshole. Y-You’re fine.”

And all at once, Luther feels the weight of being alone all over again. He just wanted to  _ help _ Diego. He didn't want Diego to feel the same way he did. He never wanted anybody to feel so alone and helpless. But now he feels that again. He told Diego one of his biggest secrets and he feels more alone than ever.

He just wishes it was easier. He wishes that people could understand that he did feel pain, he did feel heartbreak, he did feel alone. Even if other people didn't see it, he wasn't okay. He wasn't perfect.

“You're not alone, Diego,” Luther says, struggling to grab onto any bit of hope he has left. “We can help you through this.  _ I _ can help you if you're not a stubborn dick about it!”

Diego scowls. “D-Didn't I-I ask you to le-l-leave?”

Luther clenches his jaw and shakes his head. It would be so easy to just tell Diego to fuck off and leave the room, slamming the door behind him. But he can't do that. His brother is in a vulnerable state. He needs help, even if he doesn't recognize that. “Fine,” he says. “I'll leave. But I  _ am _ here for you, even if you're an asshole about it. I know what you're going through. Just… I'm here to help you. If you want.” And with that, he leaves.

Luther feels broken. He thought he would feel so full after talking to Diego, thought he would leave after helping him and they would be closer than ever. But of course, it didn't happen that way. Maybe if Luther had a plan, it would have been better. There's nothing he can do about it now, though. He can just hope that Diego lets himself get help.

Even with that knowledge, Luther can't shake off the pain he feels. He feels alone again. The one person in the house that might have understood Luther doesn't want anything to do with him. And it hurt more than he expected it to.

He felt the same way he had a year or two ago. He felt depressed and alone and misunderstood. The world felt cruel.

Luther was two months, one week, and four days sober before he cut himself again.


	14. update :)

hello! I'm so sorry for not updating this for a while, I was busy and lost my motivation for writing at some point. I'm trying to get back into it and I hope y'all are willing to read it. 

to anyone who commented a prompt that I haven't done: I am SO sorry. I will try to get as many prompts done as possible. however, I want this series to be something that I enjoy and not something I feel forced to do. by all means, keep commenting prompts! I genuinely love to see your ideas and write some of them. however, there will be no guarantee that it will be written until I reply. sorry.

I will try to be updating this regularly again, but as I said before, I want this to be a hobby and not a job. I hope you all understand.

I'm so grateful for everyone who has supported me in both of these series and I'm happy to keep writing when I have the time and motivation. thank you for sticking with me and my writing if you do, it means the world to me. thank you for being here🤍


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